New Life
by Lady Merlin
Summary: What if Wilson comes back but he's too late? What if they really need House, now? What if there are more people who care, than they thought? HxW friendship, slightly OOC. Completed fic--updates based on Reviews. warning: different style of writing!
1. Chapter 1

Yes, I know. Another Post Season 4-pretend-that-season-5-doesn't-exist type fics, and I'm sorry, but there ya are. And this one I intend to finish, properly.

Summary: What if Wilson came back, but he was too late? What if House was gone, in more ways than one? And what if they found that they weren't the only ones who cared about House? That there were others? And wouldn't it be interesting to see the extent of this care?

It felt like a completely normal day. They had a completely normal patient, except for the fact that his symptoms were _out of the world._ House was being his regular cranky self, and they had been quite shocked at his reaction, or lack-there-of, at Wilson being gone. It was only when he was gone did they see the full extent of the man's friendship with House. Kutner thought that it was the strongest he'd ever seen. Apparently it just hadn't been strong enough.

Suddenly Cuddy slammed through the door with a vengeance rarely seen. House looked unperturbed. "House. Outside. Now." She seemed too furious for words, but Kutner, in that innocent and harmless way of his, had seen the fear in her eyes. He wondered what had happened how.

House had had his room soundproofed, and they couldn't hear a word they said. But the door was glass, and no amount of soundproofing could change them being able to see the drama outside.

She yelled and gesticulated wildly. He responded calmly. She yelled some more and waved a piece of paper around. He sighed and looked defeated, but not in a I'm-giving-in–to-you-defeated way. It was a I'm-really-tired-of-this defeated. _Really tired of this life,_ the slump in his shoulders seemed to say. She seemed to shatter, like the glass figurine on his table. She shredded the paper into smaller pieces than they'd ever seen anyone try, and still kept trying and trying and trying, and somehow it was a futile action and he remained solid. Until he leaned forward and took her in her arms and she dropped all the scraps and hugged back, sobbing.

They remained in the room, watching transfixed as a drama unlike any they'd seen before unfolded in front of their very eyes. He stroked her head and whispered as she sobbed and asked one question which everyone read; which everyone was able to read. _What will I do now?_

And he replied, pushing the door open, letting her go. "You'll survive. You'll be happy." He stood there, door open while she dried her eyes, straightened her shirt and walked away, without a second glance. He came in and sat down, telling them to continue and daring them to question. They didn't.

Two very normal days later, he was gone.

They ran into Cuddy's office, hoping that running would make a difference, knowing that it wouldn't. She gave them looks of pity through red-rimmed eyes and sat with them for lunch and mourned. He was gone, after everything. All the years spent inn joy and torment, there would be no more. And she sobbed and sobbed and then only did they realise the extent of friendship between House and Cuddy. And then they realised they had been so blind, they hadn't really seen anything beneath the façade. And it sucked.

Well? How is it? I liked it, personally. It's been running through my head and didn't come out exactly the same, but oh wells. I also think the last paragraph is overkill, but… let me know, kay?

Love,

Lady Merlin

P.S. to ensure you that I have no intentions of abandoning _this_ one, the next chap will be up at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the next chappie, as promised. :D R&R!!!

_12 years later_

Cuddy's door slammed open and she looked up. Standing in front of her was a harried looking man, dressed in a black turtleneck and cargo pants. He's young, has a ridiculous hairstyle and giant brown almost-Wilson-sexy brown eyes. He's panting and she waits for him to talk. "I've got it. I've found the evidence." Cuddy begins to feel worried. _Is the man insane? _And following her thoughts, two heavily muscled men stride in and lift him clear off the ground.

"I've found it!" the man repeats, clearly trying to illicit a response. Cuddy doesn't know what he's talking about, and looks blank. He rolls his eyes, and she is startled. It's been a long time since someone rolled their eyes at her. "I've got the evidence to frame the _bastard_ who hurt him as a child." The way he says bastard, she thinks he has a personal hatred. She doesn't know why she should have thought otherwise, but she does. She motions to let him down.

"What's your name?" she asks, trying to understand what he's saying.

He looks at her incredulously, as if he cannot believe he's having this conversation. Suddenly Wilson bursts into the room, panting, and slams into the man. He has a panicked look in his eyes, and though it's been many, _many, _years since Amber died, she thinks he looks like that. She wonders if he thinks he's loosing her, if this man is hurting her.

She shakes her head and he is visibly relieved. He stands beside her, some twisted type of shield. "What's your name, and why are you here?" she repeats.

"I'm Edward… Edward Evans?" still no response. He sighs heavily and dramatically, and she finds herself suddenly and painfully reminded of House. "I'm the PI they hired to find the bastard who hurt him as a child."

"You'll have to be clearer," she says, Administrator Cuddy now.

"Do you even _know_ House?" he demands, turning it out as an insult.

They both freeze, and their posture becomes defensive. It's still a raw wound.

"Did House hurt someone?" Cuddy asks, because she knows Wilson won't, and someone has to. "Hurt a child?"

The man looks at them in complete shock, as if he's been thrust into a situation he had _never_, in his wildest nightmares expected.

"No," he says, as if explaining to children. "No, I found evidence against his _father_," he says the word slowly, trying to ease them into it, "who hurt him as a child… Why do you not know this?" he asks, suddenly worried he's talking to the wrong people entirely. "You are Lisa Cuddy, aren't you?"

She nods, but both her and Wilson are still not absorbing what he's just said.

"Who hired you?" Wilson asks, and somehow makes it sound like a plea rather than the demand it is. The man—Edward, is taken.

"Dean Richardson did. From Hopkins. She saw that Greg hadn't really cheated. She said she wouldn't believe he did such a thing, that he was above it. And then she had noticed that he displayed all the gazillions of symptoms of child-abuse, so she looked it up on the internet and trusted her gut instinct, and got me. She had loads of money and nothing to do with it, and she really liked Greg, so she thought, ya know, heck care, let's do it. I've been working on this case for _eight_ years! And I've finally got it! I can sue the bastard, and even if _he_ doesn't want to, I sure as heck want to kill the farking son-of-a-biatch who could do such things to a small child!" The man had been getting more and more animated, before finally exploding into a violent mass of waving limbs and loud noises and bad words. "She told me to come and tell you, because she said if some amateur could see it, there is no way doctors could have missed it."

Cuddy and Wilson were shocked into _guilty_ silence. This man who had never even _met_ House was able to get this worked up about it, and they hadn't even known. They hadn't even noticed.

"Well, so where is he?" Edward asked.

Wilson and Cuddy simultaneously _uh_-ed. This was getting better and better.

Well? How is it? I'm thinking I'm missing something in this chapter, and I'm just not seeing it. But I don't know. Let me know if anything jumps out, kay?


	3. Chapter 3

To ShaiWatson: Nope! :D

To V: Thanks!

To momsboys: I'm glad you're interested. Hope I don't fail you all!

To Winka: Same as above, glad you're interested! :D

As usual, I own nothing. :D

Here' chappie 3! Enjoy!

"Well, here's the thing. We don't know." Wilson spoke for the first time in a while.

"You _what?_" he demanded, with a spat.

"We don't know," Cuddy took over. "He left when…" her sentence trailed as she fumbled for a way to complete the sentence.

"When I left," Wilson interjected drily. There was nothing else to it. House had left because he had left.

Edward waved his arms wildly, trying to find words and failing. He had a look of rage on his face that would have been described as adorable, if not for the situation itself.

He stomped, and said violently, "I'm going to go find him. I don't care. I'm going to find him. I've spent a good part of my life looking for this man, and I'll be damned if I don't see him before I go." He walked out of the office, and Cuddy and Wilson could only hope.

Well? Just a filler, but there ya go. :D


	4. Chapter 4

Here's the next one! :D

Just a little note: I wanted Edward to be some semblance of comedy-relief, because I cannot imagine myself writing a serious non-one-shot, if I'm making sense. He's supposed to be like a five-year-old on caffeine, so don't mind, kay?

The next few weeks were painful for Cuddy and Wilson in tense anticipation of Edward's return as well as the nagging silent fear that he would never return. But he did, bringing a tumult of emotions.

He ran in again, followed by confused security guards. He stood, panting at the door as Cuddy paged Wilson, who was there in seconds. "Found 'im." As a third party, the joy in the air was almost tangible—he could feel it. Their faces had lit up with anticipation, and he began to tell his story.

"Okay, he's in, wait for it, New York." Cuddy dropped her pen and Wilson gaped. "You will _not_ believe half the things he's up to. I swear, I want to be like him when I'm older." Edward sounded like a ten year old, discussing his favourite super-hero.

Wilson had questions. "Is he okay? Is he healthy? Does he have a place to go back to? A job?"

Edward waved his arms in exasperation—Wilson was taking away his stage time.

"I've got pictures!" He pulled out a folder full of shiny colour photographs, and took out the first one. It was a picture of a group of people playing music on the subway. A bunch of teenagers in baggy jeans and monochrome t-shirts, with giant sneaker (yes, the type House would wear) and artsy looking hats and necklaces. Wilson was confused, until he noticed the guy at the back, in dark jeans and a grey rolling stones shirt, black beret artfully perched on his head. He was playing the electric keyboard, and it was undeniably House. He looked…content. Better than content, he looked _happy_. Apparently Cuddy noticed at the same time as him.

"Holy crap, that's House!" she exclaimed, covering her mouth with one hand.

Edward nodded, pleased that it had had the intended effect. "Is he-is he poor?" Wilson couldn't say the words. He couldn't imagine House not being able to buy pain meds—it would kill him.

Edward shook his head in a way that said, _nope, I'm not telling you anything._ Wilson ground his teeth. "Okay, here's the next picture."

It was a picture of a library. Specifically the medical section in a university library. They didn't get it-there was no one in the picture. Cuddy scrutinized it, and she saw it first. There was an entire _shelf_ dedicated to Diagnostics, and the shelf was filled mainly with books written by one Dr. Gregory House. Cuddy beamed and Wilson's heart inflated with pride. House had made his solid mark. "These aren't the only ones," Edward said, interrupting the silence, "But I couldn't get any of the other shelves because the librarian kicked me out. Here's the next one," he charged onwards.

The picture showed New York Medical College.

Wilson looked puzzled, but Cuddy gasped. "No way," she whispered.

Edward looked up and nodded, with a twinkle in his eye. "Yeah," he whispered.

Cuddy decided to enlighten Wilson. "He's Administrator of NYMC." Wilson gaped, again.

"Yeah, he is." Edward said, yet again. He whipped out more pictures, this time of him in his office and around and about the hospital, apparently pestering the patients and doctors alike, who took him with good nature.

"So why's he playing in the subway?" Wilson asked again.

"Apparently," Edward said as if he himself didn't get it, "for the heck of it. I was there and some old guy had a heart attack and he jumped to it, and almost got pushed off by some well-meaning passer by for the fear that he was trying to rob him. The medics recognised him and allowed him to handle it, and the passer by was so pissed. Oh, he is sooo cool!" again, Edward sounded like a ten year old. Wilson wondered why he'd never seen House as _freaking_ cool.

The pictures came and Cuddy and Wilson were more and more shocked by the way House was living. He was on some experimental treatment that allowed him to function without Vicodin, and he was _happy_.

Wilson suddenly felt his loss very deeply, even though he knew he should be feeling happy for his friend. "I'm going to go get him," he said quickly, and left before anyone (including himself) was able to change his mind.

I'm sorry, I'm getting the feeling that the way I'm writing this fic is slightly immature, but I really can't help it. I really don't know what to do, no matter how I try the words come out chunky. Let me know, okay?

Love,

Lady Merlin


	5. Chapter 5

Hello all! Here's the next one! I'm approaching the end!

Wilson _hated_ New York. He lost his luggage on his way here, had been mugged behind his hotel and was sick. It sucked. New York was _cold._ He _hated _the cold, and was under the impression House did, too. So he figured the best place to find him would be in the hospital.

He was walking outside his hotel when he figured why he didn't like it. He felt disconnected with everything. Everyone was so tightly packed and close together, but they weren't emotionally close. It was like, though he rubbed shoulders with _everyone_ on the street, no one smiled at him. Everyone was plugged in; iPod, Handphone, MP3 player, laptop, Blackberry. No one was _really_ there. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt alone, and it was strange, but he _had_ to find House.

_Perhaps this is why House liked it here. He never really liked it when people fussed over him, he was always emotionally detached. He never wanted pity, and in New York they wouldn't pity him. They wouldn't even notice him, and so he thrived. _

He briefly wondered if he was doing the right thing, and shook himself out of it. _Of course I am. I'm bringing House home. Right?_

He kept walking in the chill of winter, and was about to cross the road when suddenly he froze. He could be wrong but there was a caduceus on the staff, held by the man crossing the road. He didn't dare look up, so he followed. The staff was the exact same colour, the exact same style. He knew because he helped him pick it out. He shivered, which had nothing to do with the cold, and looked upwards. Short grey-ish hair under a black almost-artistic beret, black long coat on jeans, sweetly familiar gait… there was no doubt. It was House. _Greg,_ his mind corrected.

He didn't know why but he was still considering whether he should talk to House, or not. He couldn't get over the fact that maybe House was happier here, and maybe he would continue being happier if he didn't interfere in his life. Maybe…

He really couldn't continue with this train of though. A sweet idea came out, and he considered confronting House there and then, on the street. So if House responded badly, he could leave quick and easy. But he abandoned it. It would be weird to go up and hug a man on the street, and House might even hit him with his cane.

He considered and considered, all the while following House at a safe distance. For once he appreciated New York—there was no way in hell House would suspect that he was being followed, not when there were so many other people on the street.

He paused and thought—this was his last chance. He wouldn't come back again. But he couldn't bring himself to disturb House. He looked really happy, and settled. He didn't know how it would be if he interrupted, he kept thinking the same thought over and over again, and he when he looked up, House wasn't there anymore. Some part of him that believed in fate thought that the decision had been made for him. He accepted it, and turned around. This would be fun to explain to Cuddy and Edward.

He just wished there was a way to tell House that he loved him to bits. But he couldn't. He really couldn't. And that sucked.

Well? Do ya'll hate me yet? I'm sorry, I hate myself too… Nvm. R&R!

Love,

Lady Merlin


	6. Chapter 6

Here's what I expect to be the last chapter, unless I change my mind at the end.

Note to (STAR): I'm sorry, I couldn't cut it off as an emo fic. I had to give it a happy ending. I'm sorry.

PS to Note: The Dr. Fun Bags, Limping Twerp and Boy Wonder thing belongs to Angelfirenze. All worship goes to her. :D

Unbeknown to Wilson, House _had_ noticed his stalker, and in that moment when he paused to think, House had ducked to a side in an alley to avoid being seen. He didn't want to think what would happen if he were attacked, being a cripple and all. But there was something, something about that man that got to House. (STAR)

So he followed him, completely forgetting about the danger to himself. He followed and it wasn't really difficult, because Wilson was walking really slow.

He took his time to observe him. Brownish blonde locks struck him first, followed by the eternally boyish face, and his mind threw out only one name at him. _Wilson._ But he wasn't sure. So he followed him to his hotel, and asked the receptionist to keep this note for James Wilson. She'd looked at him suspiciously, but took the note. He knew she'd read it, so he wrote something that only Wilson would have been able to understand.

_Boy Wonder, Is Dr. Fun Bags still fun?_

Read the note which Wilson had received when he came down. His heart froze and he looked around frantically. He demanded to know who had given the receptionist the note, and of course the only thing which she remembered was the staff.

His heart was pounding as he hailed a cab and asked to be taken to NYMC. The cabbie asked him anxiously if he was having a heart attack, and Wilson shook his head, bemused despite his excitement and worry.

He raced in, and was confronted by a bunch of nurses demanding to know where he was hurt. Wilson explained twice or thrice before they let him go, that he _himself_ was a doctor, and was perfectly fine, thank you.

He straightened his tie, smoothed his hair in some desperate attempt to calm himself down and knocked on his door. The receptionist opened it, and refused to let him go in unless he had an appointment. But he knew House hadn't left the note for nothing.

"Tell 'im that Dr. Fun Bags still has the hots for the Limping Twerp." Wilson had to try _hard_ to not laugh while saying that. The receptionist shot him a dirty look, but complied.

She went in and related the statement in a way that indicated she had no clue what the raving lunatic outside was talking about. She didn't fail to mention that, anyway. Wilson grinned. It had been years since anyone called him a raving lunatic.

"_That's_ my raving lunatic," comes a rich voice from inside, and Wilson freezes, letting warmth of familiarity wash over him. The receptionist is obviously leagues behind House, Wilson thinks, and grins.

The receptionist gives him yet another glare as she indicates for him to go on in.

He goes in, not knowing what to expect.

Yay! CLIFFIE!!! Don't ya'll hate me? (xD)

R&R IF YOU WANT THE NEXT ONE!!!

MWAHAHAHAHA!!!

P.S. I decided to not end it here. :D

Love,

Lady Merlin


	7. Chapter 7

Here's the next one! R&R!!

He doesn't notice anything about House except for his smell. He closes his eyes and immerses himself in the sudden warmth of House's presence. He opens his eyes, and House seems as hesitant. None of the confidence heard from outside is present on his face.

"Greg," Wilson whispered.

"Jimmy." That's all it took to break Wilson's control.

Before either of them knew what's happening, Wilson had hugged House. House stumbled backwards, and to Wilson's shock, hugged back.

(The receptionist was still in shock)

House grinned and held him at arms length. "Hey Jimmy. Long time no see."

Wilson grinned back, but couldn't help himself. "I'm sorry Greg, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that. I love you, more than I loved Amber, and for longer. You're my best friend, and really, that's all I need."

House froze, and then melted and Wilson knew that the weight of his anger must have been heavy for House. He felt so sorry that he'd done that to his best friend.

"Can you forgive me?" he asked House.

House smiled and replied, "Forgiven long time ago."

Wilson was, for the first time in a good long time, happy. He took a moment to observe his friend. There was a lot more grey in his hair, and his face was lined and older. His body was thinner and frailer looking, but all in all the evil glint of insanity was still there in his eyes.

"Seriously, House. Missed you."

"I missed you too."

There was a silence. "Now what?" House interrupted.

Wilson shrugged. "Don't know. Never thought that far ahead." They exchanged grins and House promises to meet Wilson for a movie at his place that night. In the meantime, he can take Wilson for a tour of _his_ hospital. House is proud of something, and that's a good sign.

Wilson completely ignores the issues they must talk about. Amber and his father and his leg and everything. For now, everything's fine, and they're happy.

House put an arm around Wilson's shoulder as he led him outside (receptionist staring). "So, is there an Ex-Mrs. Wilson number 4?"

Wilson whacked him on the shoulder, playfully. Yeah. Things are good.

Thanks and Love,

Lady Merlin


	8. Chapter 8

Here's the last one I scraped out. Assuming that Wilson's spent several days with House, and has to go back now. He's already tried his level best to convince House to go with him, and House has tried to convince him to stay, but…

Wilson stood there, his one small bag in his hand. House grinned at him and hugged him again. "Are you sure?" Wilson asked, because he knew everyone would be furious at him. He really wanted House back too.

House nodded, and Wilson accepted it because it would never work. House would never get used to PPTH now, after so much time in such a different place.

"I promise, I'll visit you soon," House says, and again Wilson was struck by how different he'd become. Wilson nodded, trying to keep it together.

House suspected as much, and hugged him once more.

Wilson got on the plane back to New Jersey and House remained, knowing that life would be much easier that way. Distance _did_, after all, make the heart grow fonder...

Okay, I think I owe everyone an explanation. I know this is probably not a very satisfactory ending, and not one of my best works, but I needed to complete this because I generally lack the motivation to do so. I've finished it ASAP so I don't abandon it halfway and leave people angry. So yeah. I don't know, maybe I'll stick to one shots from now on. Please let me know, because it's important.

I'm really sorry.

Thanks and Love,

Lady Merlin


	9. Chapter 9

Hey everyone! Here's a little Post-Finish note:

I've come to the conclusion that I'll do a sequel to this one, because momsboys gave me an idea which to work on, and I'm gonna grab it and run. (insert evil laugh). I'll post it up here when I put up the first chapter, so look out for it, okay?

Meanwhile, this fic is officially finished! Woooo! It's the FIRST fic I've EVER **COMPLETELY **finished… cool, innit?

Either way, I'm glad for everyone's support and just to let you know that you've made me feel a lot better about my writing than I initially felt, so thanks, for that and for the continual support, I appreciate it.

With lots and lots of love,

Lady Merlin.

Post Post Finish Note: Feel free to keep reviewing! ;D

Post Post POST Finish Note: Hey, what do you think about HW????


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